


102

by jalooloo



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Sleepy Cuddles, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalooloo/pseuds/jalooloo
Summary: i’ll leave you wordsunderneath your doorunderneath the singing moonnear the place where your feet pass byhidden in the holes of wintertimeand when you’re alone for a momentkiss me, whenever you wantNathan Prescott wasn’t half as bad as what she'd been told.Even in multiple timelines.First two chapters were written in 2015 after I just turned 17.





	1. Chapter 1

The air in Courtney’s room felt foreign, and I guess it matched my mood. When I looked in her mirror I saw an alien. An imposter. She clipped my hair away from my face and filled in my sparse eyebrows with a dark pencil. They stuck out like a sore thumb, or more appropriately, like two bushy moustaches that an old-school detective might sport. She had also insisted on buying two new dresses for me, one quite provocative and one more conservative. Feeling a bit riskier, or maybe coerced, I chose the former. Even though I didn’t look like me, I looked good.

Thinking about my first Vortex Club party was exhilarating and terrifying. Both Chloe and Warren opted out of coming because “Rachel wants to ditch and go driving,” and “there is a Lord of the Rings marathon on tv,” but Courtney and Dana swore they had my back.

Courtney took a few steps back to admire her work and squealed in delight. “You’re going to need to bring pepper spray to keep all the boys away tonight,” she says, aiming a bottle of setting spray at me.

I didn’t know how to reply so I just did what came naturally – I took a selfie. After about fifteen minutes of Instagram-gold, my mood spiked and a strange sensation invaded my brain. It had always been a problem of mine trying to live in the moment. Instead of trying to enjoy what I was doing right now, I couldn’t help but think that I could’ve been having this much fun every day. I felt guilty for feeling happy today, when I could’ve been happy yesterday. I mean, who does that? What is wrong with me?

“Babe, are you okay?” Courtney questioned. When I didn’t reply she searched my eyes for answers, grabbed me by the wrist, and declared, “We are going to get drunk tonight!”

Vortex Club parties were an enigma; what reputable school would knowingly let underage drinking happen under their roofs? One could bargain it was for group morale, but it was more likely that Sean Prescott would let anything happen if that’s what his son wanted. Going to one of the parties, I was in no position to complain. Hypocrite.

Generic dance music transformed the student halls into a bustling club and I decided that, for at least one night, I wouldn’t try to keep up my too-cool-for-you hipster persona. You could still like trap and hip-hop at the same time as folk-rock. Nobody published a rule book.

Courtney checked in with Stella at the front. She placed a hand on my lower back and lead me through the crowd, ushering me straight to the VIP section, right past the curious faces of Luke and Alyssa. Back cramped, elbow to elbow with sweating bodies doing, what I assume was, dancing. It stunk of cologne and desperation, yet, I felt special being there. Empowered. Most people were too caught up in their own business to register my presence. A special kind of invisibility that showed me that I fit in. That was until I caught the gaze of Victoria, her lips parted and her eyebrows scrunched. She gave me a small smile and shouted over the music, “Courtney did a good job on you!” I decided to take it as a compliment.

I made a mental checklist of who was in the section with me: Victoria, Courtney, Logan, Dana, Trevor, Juliet, Zachary, and a couple of people that I hadn’t become acquainted with. Then I realised who was missing, Nathan. Out of all people you think that he would be at the centre of all the commotion. His presence made just as much of an impact when he wasn’t here compared to when he was. Maybe even more.

“What’s the good stuff?” I directed at Courtney and she became serious.

“I’m guessing you’re a super lightweight, no offence,” she leaned in to make sure that I heard her. “Ask the bartender for a Strawberry Prescott. It tastes good and won’t get you too drunk, yet.” If the drink was anything like the name, I would expect it to taste sweet and fucking crazy.

When I received the cocktail, I examined it closely. It was a shade darker than rose and smelled like a fond memory. Courtney was off chatting up one of her more stylish friends and left me to drink alone. It was not like I needed a babysitter anyways. 

As the liquid went down my throat I noted that it wasn’t as sweet as I expected it to be, and that it also wasn’t that strong. Couldn’t say much for the after taste, though. I felt like I had to keep drinking to get the taste out of my mouth. It was addictive while it lasted but sickening when it was over, and the only way to feel better was to keep having more.  
And that’s exactly what I did.

I have a faint recollection of sitting on a couch next to Hayden. I was wedged between his arm and a few empty bottles. He was smoking something out a of bong. Thinking of the smell now makes me want to gag. I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but it felt like I was surfing through time with a warm feeling in my chest. Like I was in the middle of a heatwave. Maybe five minutes had passed, maybe fifty, but either way I knew it was passing and I had to do something.

My eyes were bouncing around the room, but my mind was focused on the drink. I wanted to find out what was in that mix, and it never occurred to me to ask the bartender. I had to ask the man behind the name.

“Where’s Nathan?” I asked everyone I bumped into. I was usually greeted with something along the lines of, “Who cares? Party me with instead!” or “Why, trying to get hooked up?”  
My head started to spin and it felt like bodies were caving in on me, so I darted towards the bathroom. Just as I was going to open the door, the man of the hour came trudging out, not looking as happy as everyone would expect him to be at, what was basically, his party.

He stood frozen in the doorway and squinted in apprehension. His eyes travelled down my body and lingered a little too long where my dress met my thigh. Shaking his head in apparent disgust, he said, “No. Fucking. Way. Never in a million years did I expect to see Max ‘nosy bitch’ Caulfield having fun.”

I was too relieved and tipsy to see him to retort. Instead, my voice came out honeyed, “I was looking for you, strawberry boy.”

He checks the time on his phone and says, “Well, I’m here.”

With a stupid smile I whispered, “What makes a Prescott taste so addictive?”

His angry face softened and he let out an endearing laugh. After a few seconds, he transitioned into hysterics. It took him a while to calm down and his smile made me feel warm. 

“How drunk are you, man?”

“Kind of.”

Nathan let out a sigh and draped his arm over my shoulder. “I think you need some fresh air.”

People were cheering on the two of us as we made our way through the crowd. We walked for a number of quiet minutes until we passed Tobanga and found ourselves at this lovely tree. I slid down its bark and plonked my drunk ass on a pile of leaves. I pat the spot next to me but he stayed, towering over my form.

“Do you want to talk?” My demeanour turned from curious to confused when he didn’t reply. “Why did you get me alone, then?”

“We aren’t friends, Caulfield.” 

His reply left me feeling self-conscious and my mind felt less foggy in the sobering silence. “I know.”

Nathan’s nose scrunched up and he looked at me through his peripheral vision. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

“No, no, _no_ ,” I sounded like a mother scolding her naughty toddler, “you don’t get to ask me a question before you answer all of mine.”

“What, about getting you alone?” He pretends to be flabbergasted. “Why, isn’t it obvious? I was going to murder you and send each of your fingers to a different friend.” He throws his head back as if he was the funniest man alive. “Do you even have ten friends?”

“Of cours-” I begin before he cuts me off.

“Seriously though,” he says, his face anything but serious. “I got you out of there before you made a fool of yourself.

I drew imaginary pictures on my skin, trying to think of how to reply. He surveyed the treetops like he was looking for something in particular. I broke the silence with the first thing to enter my train of thoughts. “Why are you such an asshole?”

He scoffed and crossed his arms. “Seriously? Have you ever thought that I’m only an ‘asshole’ to twee bitches like you?”

“How am I the bitch? Every time I see you you’re conjuring up another insult about my face, or my photographs, or just, anything!”

“Not like you’re any better,” Nathan says. He started speaking to himself, mumbling under his breath. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists rhythmically. He takes a flask out of his pocket, sips it, and places it back in the jacket. “What can I do to make myself… less of an ass?” He rolls his eyes, visibly regretting his question as soon as it escaped his mouth.

I stood up to make myself seem bigger. He was still a good couple of centimetres taller than me. Trying to sound gentle, I replied, “Don’t try and find the worst in people.”

He didn’t take this very well and spoke deep and slow, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

My back straightened in defence, instinct convincing me to be insulted. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the expression on his face, but I decided to relax again. “How about we say something we like about the other? Let me go first. You’re talented at photography. Frankly, I get envious at times.”

He took a few seconds to digest my compliment. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak two times. Nothing. It was almost insulting how hard this was for him. “Shoes,” he manages to say. "Your shoes look nice. Makes your feet look... pretty?”

I tried to stifle the giggles forming in my throat and gave him a ghost of a smile. “My feet look pretty?”

“Honestly, all of you does. Well, unless you’re being stupid or something. Oh and, don’t get me started on those eyebrows. No wonder why you hide them. Looks like two b-”

“-ushy moustaches?” We said in unison. I could no longer supress my delight, instead giggling so hard I started to dry heave. He leaned back onto a tree, foot up and arms crossed like he was posing for a photograph.

Beams of moonlight snuck through gaps in the forest, setting the mood perfectly. Nathan was illuminated, his features contoured soft. We looked into each other’s eyes until his focus settled on my lips. I thought that your heart sped up when you were scared, but mine seemed to skip a beat.

Our lips met more viciously than I anticipated. I had kissed a couple of people in my life, all of them moved their hands to cup my face, touching my cheek with caution. Not Nathan. His breath reeked of bourbon which countered the fruity scent of my own. His hands were gripping my wrists with so much determination that I thought that they were going to snap in half. His body moved in sync with his tongue. Never had something made me feel so vulnerable and alive at the same time.

It didn’t even register that my eyes were wide open until Nathan removed his lips from mine and frowned. “Why so stiff? It’s not like you haven’t done this before. Unless…”  
Wanting to prove something, and needing to be intimate again, I connected our mouths once more. My power didn’t last very long and Nathan took control after a few sensual kisses. His hands were calloused, which contrasted with the softness of his lips. He started to spice things up and shifted our position so that he had a good grip on my neck. His steadiness kept my body in place as he made some painful marks beside my jugular. He was a vampire and I was his prey.

“Let’s do it against the Tobanga. Show them that the Prescott’s really own this land,” he smirked against my neck. I didn’t put up a fight as he dragged me to the totem pole.  
We made out for a few brief moments until he broke contact to take off his shirt and jacket. He stood staring at me pushed up against the Tobanga with a proud grin. I was transfixed; frozen, counting all the freckles on Nathan’s chest until I felt ashamed, the magnitude of the situation hitting me over the head with a broom. This boy had been nothing but nasty to me since I came to Blackwell. He had teased me and mocked me in the halls. Says a few sweet, alcohol induced words and all of a sudden, I’m crawling all over him?

His hands sneaked up my dress and I shivered. “Prescott, stop.” Straight away his face changed. However, instead of removing his hands, they locked in place on the small curve of my hips. It felt like his hands belonged there but I could not ignore the unease in my heart. The butterflies migrated from my stomach to my chest. One was flapping in my throat.

“What’s wrong?” His tone laced with anger.

I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “This is wrong. We’re wrong. You’re wrong. I can’t, you’re just…”

He didn’t let me finish, just removed his hands from my skin and tensed his jaw. “Do you really hate me that much?” He took a couple of steps back, obscuring the left side of his face with the shadow of a tree. It was like he was looking through my skull and into another dimension. “Why do people hate me so much?”

Before Nathan left, he aimed a kick at Tobanga, grunting as his foot made contact. When his shirtless silhouette stomped away, I could’ve run after him. I could’ve shouted, “Ugh, you’re half naked!” Instead, I crunched his jacket in my fist and pressed it against my nose. I breathed in and sighed. The thought, whilst highly improbable, that he left it behind so that we had a reason to meet up again, made me oddly comforted.

I couldn’t really, truly, deeply, in the pits of my hipster heart, want to see this guy again. I was supposed to hate him. But, you’re not supposed to feel like this when you hate somebody. My smile spread from ear to ear.

//

I was the one who insisted that he stopped, yet after two nights had passed, it seemed like I was the only one who desired to do it again. At first, I thought that the primary source of my reluctance was because I was with Nathan _freaking Prescott_ , but that was only part of it. Common sense prevailed, cutting through my alcoholic jungle brain with a machete. Maxine, you cannot lose your virginity when you’re drunk. Maxine, do you think poor Tobanga wanted this?

Nathan didn’t seem mad at me. If anything, he seemed disappointed, avoiding me on the way to classes and pretending like I had the presence of dust.

His shirt was placed over my desk chair; his jacket, over his shirt. I grabbed his flask. It was engraved with his initials. I planned on taking a sip, but after I had a whiff of the contents, I closed the lid and put it back in his pocket. A bit of bile travelled up my throat. Instead of marinating in my own boredom, I made a plan – I knew what I was going to do. Like a desperate twelve year-old, I sprayed some of my perfume on its collar and headed for Nathan’s dorm. I didn’t know what I was expecting to get out of this.

It didn’t take too long to sneak to Nathan’s dorm. Most people were indoors at six o’clock. Before I knocked on his door I shot a glance at Warren’s room across the hall.  
Sometimes I got really frustrated with myself. My life would be so much simpler if I liked him back. We could go be those best friends who _go ape_ and fell in love and got married and were happy. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t force feelings. Or deny them, I suppose.

I pressed my ear up against Nathan’s door and heard quaint music being played. It sounded like music boxes and the ocean. My body tensed up and the hairs on my skin straightened. Procrastinating knocking on his door, I looked at the writing on his slate. ‘Nathan is the King of Blackwell.” My eyes rolled so hard I saw my brain.  
My knuckles rapped on the wood and I could hear his music being switched off. “What the fuck do yo-” Nathan stopped as soon as his gaze met mine.

“I’m returning your clothes,” I stated the obvious, shrugging my shoulders.

He stood there thinking, the muscles on his jawline stressed. He focused on some invisible dirt under his nails, before he looked up and gave me a faint smile. “Nice pyjamas.” The boy moved his body, signalling that I was welcome inside.

As I was entering the room, Nathan shouted in fear, “Wait, no! Close your eyes!” I sat awkwardly perched on the corner of his bed with my lids shut. I could hear him tearing things off of his wall and arranging things in panic. “There. It’s safe now, Max.” Blood rushed to my cheeks – he had never said my name like that before.

When my eyes opened, I was amazed at what was in front of me. There was a projection of a black and white movie spread across his wall. Everything looked so high-tech and expensive and I was in too much awe to be jealous.

In my peripheral vision, Nathan leaned in and sniffed his shirt. He grinned and placed it in a neat fold on his couch.

“What kind of music do you like?” He asked me, fiddling his fingers together. 

The way he looked at me through his lashes summoned back those familiar butterflies. “Just play what you were playing before.”

Nathan made his way to the music player and melodic chimes filled the air. It was strange thinking that a guy with Nathan’s temperament enjoyed something so calm. Like a mind reader he said, “Don’t look so surprised. Sometimes I like it when things are gentle.”

“Nathan, I’m…” I paused. “I’m sorry about how things played out the other day.”

He nodded a couple of times and grinned. “Say that again.”

“I’m sor-”

He shook his head. “No, my name. Say it again.”

“Nathan.”

The song finished, leaving a fleeting moment of silence before a symphony of whale noises took over the room. It was otherworldly. “Now, say Nate.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not a dog.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Okay,” I sigh. “Nate.”

Nathan swayed with contentment. “I hope this song will remind you that I’m not half as bad as what you’ve been told.”

“Nathan…” I trailed off.

“Please, call me Nate. I’d like that a lot.”

“Nate,” I repeated under my breath. It felt nice rolling off my tongue. “Nate, Nate, Nate.”

I moved my body so that I was sitting crossed-legged facing him. He reached for something in his drawer then joined me on the bed, sitting so our knees met the other’s. He placed a pack of cigarettes and his fancy camera between us. Nate aimed the camera towards me and took a picture, the black and white movie serving as a beautiful backdrop. 

His arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me into his chest so that we could take a picture together. Nate’s eyes were closed and there was a plethora of lines marking the delight on his face.

The beating of his heart was soothing. Nate was here. Nate was alive. I pressed my head into his chest. His pulse made me feel safe. Sometime during a chat about _the coolest thing in the world, seriously Max_ , I drifted off to sleep.

I was roused by the scent of smoke. We seemed to have shifted positions – I was still pressed against his chest but we moved to a laying position. 

“That’s just tobacco, right?” I asked, already knowing the answer. It didn’t smell like Hayden.

Nate took another drag and spoke, “No, I’m smoking heroin.”

Feigning surprise, I lifted my palm against my heart. “Was that a joke, Prescott?”

“Only if it makes you laugh, Caulfield.”

The longing in my eyes mirrored his own. He put out his cigarette and closed the gap between our faces. In his usual style, he took over the kiss and ended up straddling my hips. I had always daydreamed myself as the one on top.

“Stay the night, Max,” Nate’s hot breath was on my ear. My eyes widened. He placed his index finger on my lips to stop me from talking. “Not like that. I mean, y’know, sleep, with me. _Cuddle_.”

“Cuddle?” I covered my smile with my palm. 

“If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll say that you’re a dirty liar.”

Every fibre in my body wanted to stay, so I did. Nate retrieved his shirt off of the couch and told me to wear it and I complied. He said that he would close his eyes but I knew he got a peak when I was changing. Once I was done, I slung my arm across his stomach and made myself comfortable. 

We watched as the end of the movie played on his wall and the room was left pitch black.

I am a lucid dreamer. I fabricate expansive worlds full of zombies and talking-cats and breaks in the space-time continuum. I dream of worlds bigger than our own.

Usually.

That night, I dreamt that the moon was a disco ball. Colours danced across Nate's forehead, down the bridge of his nose, around the curves of his lips.


	2. Alternate

Nate was a mess.

I pretended to sleep for a few moments whilst he paced around his room. He was holding his hair in his hands, shaking and chanting, “No. No. No.”

“Do you usually talk to yourself at three-am?” I tried to make light of the situation but froze when I saw blood trickling down his face. “Nathan, you’re bleeding.”

He immediately let go of his hair and I saw traces of blood on his fingers. His hands viciously rubbed against his face, as if to get rid of the blood, but only serving to smudge it. “Caulfield, get it off of me.”

I went up to him and noticed the terror in his eyes. It simultaneously frightened and intrigued me how he could switch from calm to agitated in seconds. “It’s not coming off,” I whispered. I grabbed the boy off the floor, hesitant but not dismissive. He was visibly distressed but he let me lead him to the bathroom.

We stood leaning over the furthest sink in uncomfortable silence. Nate was watching me through the mirror but he would not look me in the eye.

“Gone,” I started. My right hand was grazing his fingers lightly and my left was hanging lazily at my side. Continuing, I said, “Not a big deal. It’s like it never happened.”

It was the moment I heard the bathroom door creak open when my self-awareness was sent into overdrive. I was in Nathan Prescott’s t-shirt, standing within a breath’s distance to said person, in the boy’s dorm bathroom at three am.

Hayden strolled in with his clothing dishevelled and his face lit up as soon as he saw us in the corner. “Nathan, bro, you gotta tell me about this later,” was all he said before he backed out of the room.

Nate’s breathing had started to even out he still didn’t seem comfortable. “You better get back to your room.”

//

Nate didn’t attend classes that day. Hayden caught me looking around, glancing out the window and at the door periodically. The smug look on his face told me all that I needed to know.

After class I watched Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within for the bazillionth time with Warren. At about five I retreated to my room. The only thing I could think of was a certain Prescott. Hint, _it wasn’t Sean._

I tried to do my homework but I was praying for something exciting to happen. Maybe it was because I was hanging out with Kate more, but God heard my prayers. There was five knocks on my door and I tripped over my own feet as I rushed to go open it. I was greeted with the flash of a camera without a second given to pose. Nate seemed so pleased with himself.

We talked for over an hour about his day and he explained to me why he had freaked out yesterday morning. His father had texted him right after we fell asleep saying that in two days he was visiting Blackwell. Nate checked his phone at around three and that’s when he saw the message. He also detailed how his father was making a major contribution to the school’s basketball and football teams. I had to agree with his plan to miss the morning assembly tomorrow because he couldn’t stand to see his father right now.

Awkward tension resonated through the silence, only broken when Nate grabbed his camera and gazed at the photo he took of me. He started to smile stupidly so I sneaked a peak at the picture. My mouth was ajar and my eyes wide, but he seemed so happy that I couldn’t tell him to get rid of it. I just couldn’t.

Nate’s eyebrows scrunched together as if he was conflicted. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he smiled. “But I can see my reflection in your mirror and it’s freaking me out.”

I laughed and decided to be bold. Leaning in, I made sure my lips grazed his ear. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

In between light kisses, Nate replied, “Turn off the light, hipster.”

“Why should I?”

Strategically planting a kiss on my collarbone, I could feel his answer on my skin. “Some things are better in the dark.”

When I broke our body contact to turn off the light, a rush of nervous adrenaline surged through my body. This boy was making my body feel things that it had never felt before. He placed his hands on my neck so that they met at the nape, and pressed his fingers into my skin with a force that deepened our kiss. I let him control the situation because I really didn’t know what the fuck I was doing anymore. My hands snaked up his shirt and I scratched his back, winging it. Nate pushed me flat onto my bed as a response.

This continued for a solid five minutes until he rested his head onto my shoulder and grunted. His entire body stiffened and he grumbled, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.”

“What?” I asked, trying to ignore the heat on my body. “What’s wrong, Nate?”

“I didn’t bring a…” His voice trailed off.

“A condom?” I had guessed.

“Yeah.”

Not assessing the situation correctly, I stated matter-of-factly, “Um, you could go get one?” I really needed to do this tonight.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

His head lifted up and he tried to look at me square in the face. “I mean no,” he spat. “No I can’t go get a fucking condom because I’m not in a position to be walking around the dorm rooms at the moment.”

“What are you even talking about?” I had questioned him. I received my answer when he started to grind his hips between my legs. In a way, it was cute that Nate didn’t bring protection because it meant that he didn’t have ulterior intentions.

The reality of the situation dawned on me, and all of a sudden auto-pilot was turned off and I didn’t know how to react. We weren’t two souls that converged into one entity after a burst of passion – we were two sweaty teenagers crushed between purple bedsheets and stuffed animals. Nate’s head was bent, giving him a double chin. My legs were prickly.

By the time I would get to his room and back I feel like I’d change my mind about what I was going to do. But, on the other hand, I would rather do anything but nothing. “Ughhh… We could do… Other things.”

Even though it seemed impossible, he moved his face closer to mine. I saw the outline of his features through the darkness and his expression gave me confidence. He lead kisses down my neck and tried to unbutton but I stopped him. Wind rattled the window. In the sultriest voice I could conjure up, I spoke, “Let’s make this about you tonight.”

Rain tapped the window.

Nate’s grin widened, and he said, “Lucky day.”

Cracks of thunder.

I touched his arm.

A whip of lightning.

Shivers. “Oh, my,” I laughed. “Someone wants to stop us.”

There was a _clink!_ on the window. Then, the window started cracking. Spiderwebbed lines all spread over the glass. “Well, I’m going to fuck off now,” Nate said right before he gave me a kiss on the cheek. “That was,” he sucks in a breath, “ _almost_ worth it.” He winked.

And then he was gone.

When Nate left, the weather calmed itself. Too engrossed in my own head, I missed Nate’s text sent an hour later, stating, “That’s as close to heaven that a Prescott will ever get.”

//

I woke up early the next morning due to my excitement. Today something big was going to happen. Warren seemed to be up early too, as I had a text from him waiting in my phone.

_I head a funny rumour that u left a part with Nathan Prescott the other day._

_weird_

_Nathan’s not even ur type anyways though. U don’t like super jerks._

_you know me. btw I’m not coming to parade. I’ll cya in class_

_Ok but stay away from Nathan. I think he’s into u._

The whole conversation I was tempted to text, “Hey Warren. I had an almost-romp with Nathan last night.” Of course, I didn’t. It was so damn tempting though. I wanted to tell someone and I would get the biggest reaction out of him. It wouldn’t be fair though – Warren was a darling.

After pacing around my room for a while, I found myself subconsciously lead to Dana’s room. Her door was open and I stood watching her dance until she got sick of her early morning booty-shaking. She yelled in delight when she saw me and jumped off her bed to pull me into an embrace. Dana closed her door and sat me down on her couch. “So are you going to tell me why have I been graced with your presence this fine morning?”

“Oh, so I can’t just pop in to see my friend every once in a while?” I retorted in faux anger.

Dana, acting like her usually preppy self, laughed as if I was the funniest girl in the world. “I miss you Max, you should visit more often,” she said. “But seriously, is something up?”

“You have a lot of sex right?” I asked. Dana cocked her eyebrow as if to tell me to continue. “How do you keep your, _downstairs_ , trimmed?”

Dana’s face got serious and she didn’t show even the hint of a smile. Her eyes swallowed me whole with an intimidating deadpan as she decided on how to answer my question. “Okay so I’m not going to ask you who you’re planning on having sex with but I want to make sure that you feel safe. Here’s my second phone number. It’s only for family emergencies but you’re like a little sister to me so I think you qualify. Call me if you ever feel in danger.

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let me say this. You don’t need to be bare just because you think that your man, or woman I mean it’s none of my business or anything, is going to reject you. But if it’s because it will make you feel more confident, then try this. I use this hair removal cream thing. Works a charm.”

Dana rummaged through her top drawer and handed me a tub. She takes a deep breath and continues speaking.

“You know what, keep it. I can get more.

Oh and use protection. Trust me, no matter how good he says his pull-out game is, don’t trust him. Just don’t.

Stay safe, lovely.”

Seconds felt like hours as I cleaned myself up. That morning it felt like ever pair of eyes that met mine knew what I was going to do. I wasn’t embarrassed but I felt like defending myself out, “So what?”

Once I knew that a majority of the student had filed themselves into the assembly hall, I jogged all the way to Nate’s room. Unable to contain my excitement. He was magnetic. I checked his slate, not expecting a change. Instead I found myself amused at the winking face greeting me, crudely drawn with shaky lines.

The door opened.

When I saw Nate, I had to refrain from cringing. In broad daylight I got the opportunity to see things on his body that I never noticed before. His ribs were sticking out and I saw scars along his waist. I wondered how I hadn’t felt them when my hands explored his body. I decided against saying anything though, as he stood half-naked with such confidence in himself.

“Naked and waiting,” I teased. “Just how I like it.”

He placed a hand on each hip and stretched his shoulders to make himself seem as big as he could. “Wow, Caulfield,” he said. “I knew you were a bit air-headed but it seems like you don’t realise that I still have my pants on.”

“Not for much longer.”

Nate advanced towards me, loosening the string on his sweatpants with every step he took.

The same nervous adrenaline surged through my veins again and I asked, “Really? We’re going to do this whilst the sun still shines?” It was rhetorical in a one sense, and genuine in another. I wanted this, _oh god I wanted this_ , but I also wanted a chicken burrito. And some Belgian waffles… and pancakes. Pancakes! Maybe, bacon and eg–

“Max,” Nate said, centimetres away. “That was a joke. I was just teasing you.”

No, no, no! I wanted Belgian waffles with extra fudge…

Bluberries?

“Max!”

No, no blueberries.

The room moved underneath me. It was closing in.

“Max?” The sound is gentle.

My throat croaked, “No blueberries.”

He grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me into his skin. “You’re okay now Max. It was a joke. A joke.”

Synchronised breathing in silence. Heartbeat. Calm, calm, calm. It’s Nate. Sweet Nate.

There was a knock – I thought it was my heart. But then it got louder. Louder than the thunder last night.

“Nathan Joshua Prescott open this door now,” Sean Prescott commanded. “I’ll give you five seconds.”

Nate scrambled to put his shirt on and I stuffed myself under his bed. My heart was in my stomach and I held my breath as if the sound of my eyelashes fluttering would get me expelled.

I couldn’t see anything from under the bed but I could feel Sean’s footsteps on the ground. “This place is filthy, Nathan.”

Nate didn’t reply.

“I noticed your truancy this morning.”

Nate didn’t reply.

“Well,” Sean continued. He made his way to the other side of the bed and I cringed – you could see my elbow sticking out. Sean let out a low laugh and gave the bed one big pat. “Hopefully my son will introduce me to you one day.”

His trail of daunting steps made its way back to the door. I bet he was sporting a smug grin on his face as he bellowed, “Maxine Caulfield.”

Nate didn’t ask me to come out from under the bed, but I did so after a minute of playing uncomfortable Tetris. Nate wouldn’t even look at me. He was sat curled up in a ball on his couch.

“Please talk to me, Nate,” I pleaded. “Nathan?”

He shivered.

“You helped me,” I said. “Let me help you.”

I wanted to cry for him and his obvious fear of his father, but I couldn’t.

//

For the second day in a row, Nate didn’t attend class. He didn’t even text or call or show up at my room unexpectedly. A small demon in my head told me that Nate was avoiding me but the angel won me over with: “He just needs some space.”

My body started pruning after standing in the shower for so long. I heard light footsteps approaching, but it was still a surprise when I heard Victoria’s voice call out. “Max?” She spoke with the concerned tone of a mother, “Max you’ve been in there for fifty minutes. Are you okay?”

I felt confused. Not because Victoria was concerned about my wellbeing, but muddled over what was going on in my own head.

It was as if my brain was telling me to feel upset. Upset that I almost gave my body to someone who was acting like I didn’t exist. Yet I wasn’t. I hovered my hand over the spot Nate had been clinging onto not too long ago and I didn’t feel dirty or used – I felt desired.

“I’m sorry I just lost track of time,” I tried to laugh off.

When I dried myself, I left the shower to see a sympathetic pair of blue eyes. “Just talk to him, for the love of all things holy,” Victoria tried to say nicely but the frustration was evident.

I made my way slowly to Nate’s, deciding against calling him first. I needed to see him in person, I needed to look him in the eyes. There was a slither of light where his door wasn’t shut properly. The loud noises ubiquitous to the boys’ dorms drowned out the sound of a boy quietly sobbing to himself. From looking through the small crack into his room, I could see that the place was in a mess.

With his back towards his door, Nate couldn’t see me. I noticed that everything that was on his walls was tattered or gone completely. All besides his “World’s Best Son” award.

Nate ignored the sound of me closing his door and continued to ignore me even after I asked him what was wrong. I knelt down in front of him so that my hands could rest in his lap and my lips against his forehead. His mild shaking turned into outright shudders as I decided to wipe away stray tears on his face.

His breath hitched and he muttered, “Don’t.”

“I’m here for you, Nate.”

“Shut up.”

“Nathan…”

“You’re not my girlfriend. We hooked up and we talked. Nothing special so don’t act like it’s more. When I say shut up… I mean shut the fuck up.”

As I walked out his room, I hesitated in the doorway. I could’ve yelled or I could’ve cried, and I probably should’ve sat down on the floor and waited until he was ready to talk, but I decided to say exactly what I was thinking. “I can see that you’re trying really hard, but nothing that you say will make me regret us,” I said. “Just so you know.”

//

My dreams were vivid that night. I heard a cacophony of voices, blending. Shouting. Pulsing. There were colours. Voices, pulsing. Colours.

Oh, I didn’t try enough to help Nate. Did I even try at all? He helped me so easily, but I couldn’t do anything for him… I wish I could go back. To a different time and help. I’d do anything.

//

My phone vibrated against my side table. Instinctually, my left hand reached for it without opening my eyes.

In bright letters, a message from an unknown number:

_Keep your mouth shut about everything. Or I’m coming for your ass. I know where you sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from summary is from the song "je te laisserai des mots" by Patrick Wilson.
> 
> Check out my personal ([traumafood](http://traumafood.tumblr.com)) and writing ([sandpapertongue](http://sandpaper-tongue-writing.tumblr.com)) blog!
> 
> My Wattpad now has an original story - ["Starfish"](https://www.wattpad.com/story/156509132-starfish%20rel=)
> 
> _Before it gets better, it gets worse and worse and worse._
> 
> The volatile Regent brothers are the talk of a small Australian fishing town, Peachdale, in both life and death. A goshawk and a seahorse, the locals would call them. On good days, they were charming and intriguing; on bad days their behaviour was erratic and violent. Joey Regent, a tarot card reader and serial womanizer, frequently went "ghost" for weeks but always returned home when he was needed. Until the day that he didn't.
> 
> After a three month disapperance, Joey's remains washed up on the salt marshes. More specifically - his severed foot.
> 
> Six months later, Frankie Regent (the more aloof of the two) finds himself desperate to reconnect with the dead, and intent on avoiding the living. He hunts for the rest of Joey's remains in the entrails of diseased fish. An ailing Charlie Regent, concerned with his son's "psychotic" behaviour, sends Frankie to group trauma counselling. Bullshit.
> 
> During the course of their therapy sessions, Frankie develops an unhealthy obsession with fellow attendee - Sugar, who has buried her own demons and wants nothing to do with him.
> 
> STARFISH is a story about isolation, mortality, and the consequences of uncontrolled grief.
> 
> Updated every Friday/Saturday Australian time.


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